


Through the Looking Glass

by Kate_Shepard



Series: Crossroads [2]
Category: Dragon Age II, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover Pairings, Eluvians (Dragon Age), F/M, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Tropes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:55:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23744182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Shepard/pseuds/Kate_Shepard
Summary: When Shepard retrieves a mysterious mirror from the ice on Noveria, she finds more than she bargained for. She's accepted Reapers and geth beyond the Veil and resurrection from the dead. What's an elf added to that list? But Fenris isn't certain he can trust this strange mage. Everything from her crew to her ship to the bodiless orb witch in every room screams magic unlike anything seen even in Tevinter. Is science really that different? Does it corrupt like magic? Can two people from worlds as different as they can be ever come together and find common ground?
Relationships: Fenris/Female Shepard, Thane Krios & Female Shepard
Series: Crossroads [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679845
Comments: 16
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the lovely folks in my favorite Discord server, so this one's for you!  
> Also, the Shepard in this story is from my Seeing Red series (https://archiveofourown.org/series/827412https://archiveofourown.org/series/827412), but familiarity with her backstory isn't required. TLDR: she's Earthborn with non-canon platonic history with Thane. And I use the Big, Bad Fenris mod (https://www.nexusmods.com/dragonage2/mods/3813), so I know elves are canonically short, but I reject that reality and substitute my own. ;)

“Why the hell are we out here looking for a damn mirror?” Jack grumbled.

Shepard said, “The Illusive Man’s email said he thinks it can help us against the Collectors or the Reapers. He didn’t say much else. You know how tightlipped he is about this kind of thing.”

Thane said, “I fail to see how a mirror will aid us.”

Shepard said, “I guess we’ll find out because I’m pretty sure that’s it. Do you see what I see?”

“I do,” he said. “A shimmer that is not ice.”

As they approached, Jack said, “It looks like water. It’s moving.”

“This is definitely not your grandma’s looking glass,” Shepard mused, looking at it through the blue Noveria ice. 

Thane said, “Mirrors are regarded as potential portals in much of human literature. I wonder….”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Shepard said, “but I also didn’t think it was possible to come back from the dead, so I’m not ruling anything out.”

She opened her omni-blade and began cutting through the ice but stopped when Jack said, “Uh, Shepard? You might want to come look at this.”

She nodded to Thane who took her place and walked over to join Jack. At first, she didn’t register what she was seeing. When she did, she opened her omni-blade again and carved into the ice. 

Jack said, “Looks like he flash froze. What are you doing?”

“Getting him out,” she said. “We don’t know how long he’s been here. Besides, you’re not dead until you’re warm and dead.”

“Look at the clothes, Shepard,” Jack protested. “He’s been here for ages. What the hell even is he? He doesn’t look entirely human.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, wrapping dark energy around the slab of ice and drawing it out from the glacier. “You and Thane get the mirror; I’ll get Mr. Freeze.”

An hour later, she stood in the med bay with Chakwas while the doctor slowly brought the man’s temperature up. He was tall, thickly-muscled, with all of the same parts as humans, though his bone structure was more angular, and he had large, pointed ears similar to a cat. Like an elf, except that elves weren’t real. His skin was covered in markings unlike anything she’d ever seen. She would have called them tattoos if they didn’t glow from within. Not like her scars. This was a warm glow, and artistically done. Hair the color of fresh-fallen snow fell around his ears. A scar similar to the one she’d gotten on Elysium and lost after Alchera crossed his nose from forehead to cheek. He was beautiful, whatever he was. 

“Does anyone remember what quarians look like out of their suits?” she asked. 

“I do,” Samara said. “It has been a very long time, but I remember them clearly. He is not one. His legs are like ours, not a quarian.” 

“So what is he?” Thane asked.

“I think he’s...an elf,” she answered slowly. 

Samara nodded. “I have seen a creature like him once, on a primitive planet called Thedas back when I was a maiden. I studied them for some time before deciding that revealing myself could be detrimental to them. It was my first time seeing humans. There were other beings there as well. These, they did call elves.”

Shepard said, “Huh. We have legends about them, but I thought they were fake.”

His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked up at the overhead. Shepard watched him closely, drawing her biotics to the surface. Chakwas stood beside the bed. He raised his head, looking at each of them. Blue wreathed him and he leaped off of the bed, reaching for Chakwas. Dark energy flew from Samara’s hand, freezing him in stasis with his hand _inside_ the doctor. Chakwas cautiously took a step backward, looking at Shepard with wide eyes. 

“How is that possible?” she asked. 

A new use of the charge ability, perhaps, Shepard thought, but that wasn’t important at the moment. As long as the stasis held him, they could worry about how he did what he did later. For now, there were more immediate concerns. 

“Who are you?” she demanded, going to him but remaining outside his reach.

He snarled in a voice far deeper than she’d imagined, “You might as well kill me now, mage. I will never be your slave.”

She said, “I’m not a fucking batarian. I don’t expect you to be a slave, and I don’t allow slavery on my ship. Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you unless you threaten my crew again. Who are you?”

His eyes met hers, as green as her own but mossy where hers were emerald. “My name is Fenris.”

“Fitting,” she said. “I’m Commander Shepard. I imagine you’re probably pretty damn disoriented right about now. You’re on board the _Normandy_ , my ship. We found you encased in ice on Noveria near a very strange mirror. Can you tell us why?”

“Merrill,” he growled darkly. “I told her not to toy with that damned eluvian. And then she pushed me through it.”

“What is an eluvian?” Shepard asked. 

He said, “Release me, and I will answer your questions if you will answer mine.” When she nodded at Samara and he was free of the stasis, he solidified and the glow faded. “An eluvian is a magical mirror. Like a portal. It can allow for communication and travel across great distances.”

“Magic,” Shepard said dryly, rocking back onto her heel and crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re telling me I brought a magical portal mirror onto my ship.”

“You should toss it overboard,” he said. “Magic is dangerous and the eluvian are tainted. Though you seem to disregard the risk among your compatriots. Just like Hawke.”

She narrowed her eyes on him. “Did the Illusive Man put you up to this? Look, just because I’ve accepted the Reapers doesn’t mean I suddenly believe in shit like magic and snarks and grumkins and goddamn _elves_.”

His brow furrowed. “How do you not know of elves? Or of magic? Your...companion...just used it on me.”

“That’s not magic; that’s biotics,” she said. 

Samara came to her and touched her shoulder, saying quietly, “The residents of Thedas believed in magic and utilized a type of power that is not biotics but seemed to function similarly. You saw what he did. That is no biotic ability I have ever come across.”

Shepard looked over at the...elf. An actual, honest-to-gods elf. Like the books she used to read. She’d thought they were myths. Of course, when she’d been born, aliens were science fiction and biotics would have been viewed as magic. Two and a half years ago, the Reapers were just forgotten legends. Plants couldn’t talk. Zombies were pop fiction. And geth only existed beyond the Veil. She’d accepted more in the last three years than she had in her entire life otherwise. Why was it so far-fetched that elves would exist and might possess an ability similar to biotics?

His eyes snapped to Samara. “What does the witch say?”

Shepard raised an eyebrow at him and kicked herself. This might as well be first contact with an alien species, and she’d forgotten all of her protocols. To be fair, she’d never needed them before. He was clearly familiar with humans, but he didn’t have a translator and probably hadn’t ever seen any of the aliens before. They were going to have to start at the very beginning. And the med bay probably wasn’t the best place for this. 

She said, “She’s not a witch. She’s an asari. Her name is Samara. The woman beside you is Dr. Chakwas. A healer. Next to her is Mordin, a salarian scientist. The man beside me is Thane. He is a drell. Why don’t you come with me. We’ll get some food and coffee or tea and we’ll figure things out.”

“What part of Thedas is this?” he asked. “I have never seen nor heard of asari or drell.”

“It’s not,” she said, walking out of the med bay and forcing him to follow if he wanted answers. “The asari are from Thessia. The salarians are from Sur’Kesh. The drell are from Rakhana, but they live on Kahje. You can eat human food?” 

“Yes,” he said.

She gestured to a seat and said to Gardner, “Ramen, please.” 

She didn’t know how long it had been since he’d had food, and she’d learned after her own resurrection not to try to take down a large meal. Soup would be good for him. She sat down across from him, mentally outlining how to explain this new world he found himself in. She supposed it would be best to understand his. 

“Tell me about Thedas, Fenris,” she said.

“What part would you like to know about?” he asked. “It would be helpful if I knew where we were. And what kind of ship is this? It is unlike any I have ever seen. The craftsmanship is not Tevinter nor qunari. The technology is beyond my experience. Is it magic? How have you managed to make a metal ship float?”

EDI said, “The Thedosians are a pre-spaceflight society, Shepard. Their technology is equivalent to the human medieval period. They have no concept of electricity, much less FTL travel or computers.”

“Good to know,” Shepard sighed. 

How the hell was she supposed to explain her world to someone who didn’t know how to turn on a light without a match? She didn’t want to make the man go crazy. 

She said, “You said the eluvian is a portal, right? Well, I think it took you to a place that isn’t Thedas. You were on Noveria when we found you. As far as I know, there are no elves on Noveria. I’ve never been to Thedas, so start at the beginning and then I will do my best to explain this world to you.”

He regarded her for a long moment, taking in this information without reaction. Steepling his fingers together under his chin, he glanced up and around at the ship again. His eyes fixed on the lights and the galley before taking her in from head down. 

“I am no expert, but Thedas is made up of several nations. Tevinter is one of them, the one with which I am most familiar. It is a land belonging to the magisters. Slavery and magic are two of the tenets of their culture. I was held as a slave to one of the magisters for longer than I can remember. Eventually, I escaped and traveled from Orlais to Kirkwall in my attempts to get away. The continent is infested with darkspawn which taint anything they touch and corrupt Old Gods into archdemons in the form of dragons to go to war with mortals in an event called the Blight. I think. As I said, I’m no expert.”

 _And now he’s talking about dragons_. She kept her expression neutral but found herself with a new appreciation for the Council’s inability to believe her. 

Gardner brought a pair of bowls to them. She thanked him before passing Fenris’ to him. The elf looked at it suspiciously and sniffed delicately at it. A few weeks ago, she’d have warned him about the cooking, but with the right provisions, the food was better than that on some luxury transports.

She took a bite of her ramen and said, “Alright. Well, as I’m sure you know, Thedas is part of a larger galaxy. Every star you see in the sky is part of a system of planets. Most of them are unoccupied, but some have life. We have learned how to travel among them using eezo. Element zero. It’s also what causes biotics. Exposure to eezo can be deadly or a non-event, so no one chooses to be exposed, but it can also get into a person’s system and grant the ability to manipulate dark energy, affect things like gravity and mass and space-time.”

He gestured to the faintly glowing marks in his skin and said, “Like these lyrium markings. You are not born with it; it is forced on you and you learn to control it. Do you access the Fade?”

“I...don’t think so, no,” she said. “I’ve never heard of the Fade.”

“You would know if you did,” he said. “You have never seen a demon?”

“People are evil enough without adding demons to it,” she said. “Here, I can show you that it’s science, not magic.” 

She turned and slid a hand under her hair, scooping it up and out of the way so that he could see the scar at the base of her skull. She outlined it with a finger and then popped her amp out of the port. Turning back to him, she held it up.

“This is called an amp, an amplifier. Biotics have them implanted to help us control it so that it doesn’t control us. Asari don’t usually need them because their homeworld has so much eezo that they’ve adapted to it, but everyone else has to use an amp.” She popped it back into its port. 

Jack slid into the seat beside her and said, “Wait. Back up. You’re telling me that you’ve got your magic tattooed in your skin?”

“Lyrium, yes,” he said. “My master put these markings on me. It was...agonizing.”

Jack looked mischievously at Shepard. “Eezo tats. That’s fucking brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Jack, no,” Shepard said. 

Mordin said. “Would be unwise.”

“Jack, _yes_ ,” Jack said, ignoring Mordin. “I need to get on the extranet. Bye, losers.”

Mordin stood. “Need to return to lab. Should come by. Would like to run tests.”

“That might not be a bad idea if he decides to stick around,” Shepard said. “I’d bet there’s a lot he can’t answer that we may need to know. But let’s figure out where we’re going from here, and make sure you have consent.”

Mordin sniffed. “Of course. Ethics not _that_ questionable.”

Shepard said to Fenris, “You seem to be taking this well.”

He said, “I have no memories from before I received these markings. While what you say is beyond my understanding, it is possible that I knew all of this in the past. Which world are we on now?”

“We’re between worlds,” she said. “Out in space. I can show you if you’d like to see.”

“Space?” he asked. “What is around us? What holds us up?”

“Nothing,” she said. “There’s no gravity to make us fall. We’re...sort of flying. Like a bird. Except that the nearest planet is a few light-years away.”

His eyes widened and he looked around them again. His hands gripped the table as if trying to anchor himself. His feet hooked around a table leg.

“You’re safe,” she said. “At least, as safe as you would be on a planet. These ships are designed to protect us, and this one is the best one in the galaxy. There are failsafes upon failsafes. Look, we should probably figure out what to do with you. Samara knows where your homeworld is, so if you want to go home, we can get you there. Or you can join my team, though I won’t hide that our mission is dangerous.”

He slowly released his grip on the table and turned those big, serious eyes on her again. “What is your mission?”

“We’re going after the Collectors. They’re an alien race who are raiding human planets and kidnapping everyone for purposes unknown. We’re going to find them, but doing so involves going somewhere no one has ever gone before and survived. I’m told it’s an impossible mission.”

He regarded her for a long moment and said, “There is nothing for me in Thedas but pain. I would like to see these worlds you speak of. I do not fear impossible missions. Where should I put my...myself? And where is my sword?”

She said, “Your sword is in the armory. You’re welcome to find a bunk in the bunkroom or take a sleeper pod if you’d like. The bunkroom is shared and crew sleep in shifts, so you won’t have your own bed, but there are enough wall lockers for everyone once we get you some armor and clothing.”

“I like my own armor,” he said, taking a cautious sip of the ramen. Apparently deciding it wasn’t going to kill him, he began to eat. 

“Will your armor stop a bullet?” she asked. “Or a rocket?”

“I don’t know what those are,” he said.

“Then you need new armor,” she said.

He scowled but said, “Fine. But I would rather not sleep with a group of strangers. I have not had the best experiences with humans.”

She said, “It’s a ship, Fenris. I’m afraid there’s limited room. You can’t stay in the med bay. All of the cabins have been claimed as well as the lounges, cargo holds, engineering and the subdeck, the lab, and the armory. My cabin is too big for one person and has a couch, but I’m afraid there really isn’t anywhere left where you could sleep alone.”

“I have slept on worse than couches before,” he said. “I will take it. Thank you.”

She hadn’t expected him to take her up on it, but she was military. She hadn’t had her own bunk until she’d taken command of the SR-1. She was more used to sharing than sleeping alone. And her cabin could comfortably hold at least two full beds, which was more than she could say about most of the other spaces people had chosen. It would work until they could find something better, and it would allow her to keep an eye on him.

“Anything else?” she asked.

“I would strongly advise you rid yourself of the eluvian. It will not give you the kind of aid you seek,” he warned. “The one Merrill had was cleansed of the taint, but I do not know if this one has been. Contact with it is dangerous. The taint drives men mad, makes them hear the call of the Old Gods, twists them and makes them sick. Eluvians are often corrupted by it.”

She wanted Mordin to study it. She wanted to know more about it. Throwing away a potential tool that powerful seemed foolish. However, he was the only one here with experience with it and knowledge of it. If he said it was dangerous, she was inclined to listen. His description sounded far too much like indoctrination via Reaper tech. 

“Done,” she said.

He blinked as if in surprise and nodded. “Then I will remain and fight with you.”

She smiled and extended her hand. “In that case, welcome aboard the _Normandy_ , Fenris.”

He gave it a dismissive look and said, “Thank you, Shepard.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Fenris.” The human commander jogged into the cabin they’d shared for the past day, looking down at the glowing orange thing on her wrist. “We need to get you an omni-tool and a translator so that you can understand the aliens without EDI needing to serve as a go-between. We can start with wearables if you want, but if you’re going to be part of the galactic community, you’ll eventually want them implanted. We’ll also need to start teaching you to read galactic standard so that you can get around in areas that don’t have human script. You can read human script, right? Or do elves have their own language?”

He stared at her, wondering how to answer that. She was so matter-of-fact about it that while a part of him suspected she was making fun of him, he couldn’t justify the suspicion. And she had unknowingly given him a way to avoid admitting his illiteracy. He didn’t see any point in hiding it from her, though. 

“Slaves are not permitted to read. I never learned,” he said. “And I do not want anything ‘implanted’ in me.”

She glanced up at him then. “Oh. We’ll fix that, then. I can teach you. It isn’t too late. Might be easier, really, if you’re learning both at the same time.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked more sharply than he intended. “What is this? Pity? Teach the poor slave to read so you can feel good about yourself?”

She cocked a red eyebrow at him and closed the omni-tool. “You think I feel sorry for you because you had a shit life?” she asked. “I grew up on the streets, ran with a gang, had half the people I cared about most in the world murdered by the other half, and then killed those myself. I’ve done things to survive that most people only ever experience in stories, and that was  _ before _ I joined the military. Almost everyone on this ship has a shit story, Fenris. Do not pull that pity party bullshit with me. Do you want to learn to read or not?”

He ducked his head, chagrined. “I apologize. That was unfair. I am...very out of my element here. Yes. I would like to learn.”

He’d been on the ship for only a day, but he’d met more races of people than he’d ever seen before. He was unfamiliar with all of their technology. He felt like a babe in the woods here. He could not even prepare food for himself. Just this morning, one of the humans had stopped him from eating an apple because they said it was something called dextro and might have made him sick. They didn’t use fire for seemingly anything, instead relying on something they called electricity. He’d even had to ask the magical orb woman how to utilize the facilities (and given that he’d stolen a knife from supper and tried to no avail to stab the witch until Shepard made him stop, it was telling as to his desperation). 

These people used ‘science’ the way his own used magic. But there were certain things everyone could use, and when he did it, he didn’t feel himself pulled into the Fade. He could make the doors glide open with a touch to the glowing green panels. He could light a lamp with a slide of his finger. One needed only ask the EDI witch, and the temperature would change to suit them, though he hadn’t spoken to her but for that one time so hadn’t tested that one for himself. He could go into the magic box and come out somewhere new. They had built magic into everything, but no one feared it, and no one on the ship seemed to believe that it gave them any more power than anyone else. 

There was a hierarchy with the biotics primarily at the top of it, but the ones beneath them weren’t slaves. No one was on the ship because they were forced to be. They chose to follow Shepard, and most of them regarded her with almost religious devotion. They were well-fed, educated, given autonomy when they were not performing their duties, and treated with respect. 

She was clearly the leader and she was a mage of some sort, but thus far, she acted like no magister he’d ever seen. Perhaps this was what mages could be like without the Fade and demonic influence. It was too early to trust it or her, but he would give them a chance. If things didn’t work out, he could always return to Thedas. 

She gestured to the couch. “I’ve got a couple hours free. Take a seat and we’ll get started. We’re going to the Citadel to resupply. Terminus gear isn’t high quality enough.”

“Do you order everyone or just me?” he asked. 

“Everyone here, at least,” she said mildly. 

He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at her. “How is that any different from slavery?”

She sat down, unfazed by his irritation, and leaned back with her arm draped over the back of the couch. “Everyone is here voluntarily. Anyone who wants to leave may do so at any time. Everyone is being paid for their work, including you. That said, it’s my way or the skyway. It’s my ship. It’s my mission. If my crew doesn’t obey my orders immediately and without question, people die. That discipline gets instilled on the ship when things are calm so that when lives are on the line, the response is instantaneous. When my superiors give me an order, I’m held to the same standard.”

“And if you give me a bad order?” he asked. 

“On the ship in circumstances like this, we can talk about it. On a mission, comply then grieve,” she said. “You won’t always know my reasoning. You just have to trust that it’s there, and I know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t know you well enough to trust you,” he said, joining her stiffly on the couch. 

She freed her long red hair from its bun and met his gaze. “Neither do I. What you need to know is that I’ve made my career fighting and killing slavers. I’m the one they call when failure is not an option. I am very, very good at what I do. You may not trust me personally. I don’t blame you if you don’t. But you can trust me when I say with complete certainty and absolutely no humility whatsoever that I am the best warrior you’ve ever met.” 

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” he asked. 

“Mm.” Her nose wrinkled in thought. “Lighthearted truth?”

“I do not know how to take you, Shepard,” he admitted.

“Over the coffee table works,” she said casually. 

He gaped at her. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? No. She couldn’t possibly. He’d never…well, to his knowledge, at least, he’d never been with anyone in that way. Touch was painful after the markings, and if there was someone from before, he couldn’t remember it. 

At a loss for a suitable response, he said, “Why do you have a decorative water tank? Is it for drinking?”

“Fish, actually,” she said. 

“Ugh.” He looked at the thing with suspicion. “ _ Why? _ ”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Somebody thought it would be relaxing. I can’t remember to feed the damn things often enough to keep them alive. I take it you won’t be volunteering to help with that.”

“Bah, no. Nasty things. The smell, the flavor, everything.”

She smirked. “Oh, just wait till you meet a hanar.” Slapping her hands lightly against her knees, she slid closer and picked up one of the tablets she called a datapad. “Alright, let’s get started. There are two languages you really need to know to get around in the galactic community: human and Galactic Standard. You already speak human standard, so you only need to know certain bits of Galactic Standard to get by. 

“Your translator will deal with speech, and so will theirs. You can scan something with your omni-tool if you need to read it, but somewhere like the Citadel, you’ll be scanning everything if you go that route. So we’ll focus on directions, warning signs you’re likely to come across, things of that nature. With human writing, it’s primarily a matter of learning the alphabet and what combinations of letters make which sounds, then applying that to words you already know.” 

“That…sounds simpler than I’d expected,” he said.

She turned on the datapad and tapped it a few times before bringing up lines of similar looking text. Explaining that each column held the same letter written in a slightly different shape, she began to put sounds to image. Each letter could be written differently, and some of them made different sounds, but the way the letter was written didn’t tell what sound it made. Within minutes, he was raking his hand through his hair and wondering if he was ever going to understand it. Children could do this. Why couldn’t he?

She stopped, watching him, and said, “You’re thinking too far ahead. You’re trying to put them together when I haven’t even finished introducing you to them. You’re smart, Fenris. You’ve never seen our technology, yet I haven’t had to show you twice how to do anything so far. You might not understand how it works yet, but you’ve figured out how to apply what you do know. Which tells me you can learn this. You’re allowed to not know it yet.”

His shoulders slumped, and he looked at the datapad. “What if I can’t? What if it’s too late?”

She said, “I was in my twenties when I started learning Galactic Standard. Most people now learn it when they’re kids. Human Standard isn’t the only human language on Earth. It’s just the one we decided to use most. There are a lot of others, many of which use a different alphabet, some of which even write the opposite direction. Adults learn to read all the time. Here. Look. Tell me what this word is. You can, just with what you know already.” 

She used her finger to draw letters. C. A. B. He did know these. As long as he guessed right for the sounds, he could figure it out. 

She looked up at him expectantly, and he was struck by her beauty. He’d never found himself attracted to a human before. Or anyone, really. But this one had hair like flames. Her face was square with full lips, a slightly crooked nose, and hard green eyes that glittered like emeralds in the cabin light. Her face was lined with thin, glowing scars that brought to mind an ember about to reignite. Fire made flesh. He wondered if she’d burn under his hands before shaking the thought off and returning his attention to the datapad she still held. It likely hurt as badly to touch her markings as it did his, and he had no business touching her besides.

“Cab?” he said slowly.

“That’s right,” she said, grinning widely. “Good job, Fenris. You just read something.” 

“For someone with a reputation for ruthlessness, you are remarkably patient with me,” he said. 

“You’re crew,” she said. “It’s different with crew. And it’s not your fault you don’t know. Now, this letter is L.”

“You’re very good at this,” he said. “Teaching. Have you done it before?”

Her eyes clouded and looked away from his. “A long time ago. Now, lowercase L, capital L, and capital I are easy to confuse sometimes. You’ll learn how to tell the difference given the word, but there are times when even those of us who grew up reading it have to just guess because they can all be written as a simple straight line. Don’t get frustrated if you get it wrong at first…”

***

Shepard brought him to the cockpit for the Citadel approach. He wished she hadn’t. Looking out into the void was disorienting, and he still didn’t want to think too much about the fact that there was nothing solid around them. As long as he stayed away from windows, he could pretend that he was on a normal ship. She thankfully kept the hatch over her bed closed in deference to his discomfort. 

He peered out the window at the massive construct she called a space station. It was like a man-made planet, but shaped like a star. She explained that the arms of the star were called ‘Wards,’ and that each of them was an enormous city unto itself, cities which never slept. The ring that connected them was the Presidium. It was home to the wealthy and the politically connected. Like Orlais. 

They docked and disembarked together, piling into a contraption she called a skycar. When it took off, he braced himself against the dashboard until he realized that the harness he wore kept him securely fixed to the seat. He slowly relaxed, watching buildings bigger than anything he’d ever seen zip by. How could there be so many people? He doubted that all of Thedas would fill just one of the Wards. 

The car landed, and he followed her out, glad to be on solid ground again. He kept his back to the massive windows where other cars and ships flew by and followed her into a building. Once inside, he finally felt secure enough to let some of the tension bleed out of his shoulders and limbs. 

She led him and the one she called a drell through the building, stopping to talk to a human about Thane’s son and then going to a food shop where she tapped selections on one of those boxes she called a terminal. She motioned him closer. He went to her, recognizing most of the letters on the screen but able to put only a few words together. Still, it was better than he’d managed before. 

She said, “I’m resupplying. I know what everyone else likes. What about you? No fish, obviously.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I like apples. I’ve never really been given a choice unless I was fending for myself.” Something caught his eye, and he scowled over his shoulder. “Is that floating jellyfish staring at me?”

Thane said, “It is a hanar. Our people live together on their homeworld. It wishes to know if you are an elf, but it does not want to offend you.”

Shepard looked up from the terminal. “What does he know of elves?” Tapping the screen again, she turned away and walked up to the giant pink fish. 

Fenris followed slowly. This was the thing she’d been looking forward to him meeting after learning his dislike of fish. How it survived out of water or had grown so large or managed to float in the air was a mystery, and one he didn’t care too much to solve.

Shepard said, “Excuse me. What do you know about his people?”

The hanar flashed with light, and the translator she’d affixed behind Fenris’ ear said, “The Enkindlers studied many races for uplifting. Humanity and the Thedosians were some of their later interests. They performed experiments, removing some of your own people from your world and introducing them to Thedas. However, they left before they were able to finish uplifting. They granted speech to them, but they left no beacons or archaeological sites for them to learn from. If an elf is on the Citadel, this means that the Enkindlers did not fail.”

“What is an Enkindler?” Fenris asked.

“Protheans,” Shepard answered, coming over to him while Thane conversed with the fish. “A race of beings who lived fifty thousand years ago. They didn’t leave, though. They were completely destroyed by the Reapers, the thing the Collectors are working for. The hanar worship them as gods. They believe the Protheans gave them language, so they have very precise speech patterns and recite poetry and shit like that.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow at that. “And here I’d thought I’d gotten away from the Chantry. But here it is again in new form. Only it’s a  _ fish _ chantry. Is your world completely devoid of redeeming qualities?”

“We have indoor plumbing,” she pointed out.

He chuckled, surprised at himself for doing so. “I will grant you that.” Looking over at Thane again, he said, “He seems too sensible to associate with a creature like that.”

She slowly shook her head. “Thane and I have very different views on the hanar. They saved his people from extinction, but then they convinced them to become a servant race. I call it slavery. He calls it an honor and defends it.”

“I have known many slaves who insisted that their masters loved and valued them,” he said. “They were all wrong. How did he escape?”

“He didn’t,” she said. “It’s the one thing that keeps me from arguing the point with him. When he asked, they let him go. He’s lived as a free man since.”

“And they do not try to retake him?” Fenris asked. 

She shook her head again. “Nah. Good luck to anyone who tried, though. Thane’s the best assassin in the galaxy. He could kill you with a toothpick. Speaking of which, we need to get moving.”

She collected Thane with little more than a subtle jerk of her chin and flick of her eyes. Together, the three of them went to the markets where Shepard chose a few sets of armor and explained the benefits and drawbacks of each. He looked them over, then abandoned them to go to a set of armor that might easily have been worn by someone in Thedas. Silver-plated with the defenses Shepard wanted and a blood-red dragon painted onto the plates, it seemed perfect. She joined him a moment later and looked it over.

“It’ll do if you want it,” she said. 

He nodded, carrying it into a small closet where she said he could try it on to have it fitted. A short time later, he had a new set of armor and they found another shop where Shepard and the drell immediately parted ways. Thane went to one side of the shop. She went to the other. Fenris watched them both before following the woman. 

He’d never seen the objects for sale, but she was familiar with them. She looked him over as though she was evaluating him. Apparently deciding something, she turned back to the objects. 

She didn’t look at him as she picked up one object after another and said, “You carry a broadsword. You’re used to fighting at close range. Shotgun, definitely. SMG or AR? Mmm. I carry a rifle, but Thane carries an SMG. Heavy pistol, then. Ooh. Grenades. I bet you’d like grenades.”

“What are you talking about, Shepard?” he asked. 

“Weapons,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at him. 

“I like my sword,” he said. 

“Nobody’s ever told you not to bring a knife to a gunfight, have they?” she asked. “Your sword is certainly impressive, but it won’t do shit to an armored and shielded target, which is what you’ll be facing. You’re going to need to learn a new way to fight. Thane will evaluate your hand-to-hand skills. I’ll teach you to shoot.”

She passed him a blocky weapon that fit into his hand, a sack of metal fruit, and a yellow and gold weapon like the one at the small of her back. If it was good enough for her, he supposed it was good enough for him. They carried the items over to a kiosk and Shepard had them boxed up to send to the ship. 

If she judged him for his ignorance, she gave no sign of it. She simply accepted what he didn’t know and made arrangements to correct it without making him feel stupid or inferior for possessing less knowledge. And she’d listened to him and ‘spaced’ that damned mirror. The humans he’d met generally disliked elves and looked down on them, but she wasn’t like any human he’d ever met. 


End file.
